Legitimate Lies

by Cosgrove, Julie B;

  Oh, how I wanted to dissolve into his arms. But, I held back. With Tom always came chaos. It stuck to him like a shadow. The commotion he’d caused today at the library was proof. I turned to grab the hall table’s edge, so he wouldn’t read my expression. I cleared my throat. “So, you didn’t intend to walk out of my life again after leaving the baby on the steps?”

  “I wanted to see you. Alone.” Tom inhaled a pause. “About time, though, Jen. Library closed at one, right?”

  Keep your eyes glued to the table, girl. Don’t melt into his baby blues. “Yes. I decided to take in some fresh air after the ruckus you made.”

  His shoes scuffed against the rug. “I saw you pick her up from the stoop, Jen.”

  “I gather it’s Marisol’s baby.” My lips pushed into a straight line. I glanced at his reflection in the mirror that hung in front of me. By now he stood in the entryway between the living room and the foyer.

  “Yes. Marisol’s and Robert’s.”

  He hesitated. I noticed his eyes narrow. No doubt he wanted to determine if the mention of my husband’s name pricked me. Of course it did. A part of me loved the man I’d been duped into believing existed. The roots of that fib still gnarled inside my mind, refusing to shrivel and die in spite of all the hurt and anger he’d caused. From the twitch in Tom’s jaw, I figured he recognized it to be true. It lay as a thick block between us. Always had.

  He heaved a deep sigh. “She’s only thirteen you know.”

  Disgust bubbled into my throat. My husband had raped and impregnated a child. “I thought she’d been older. Sixteen maybe.”

  “Yeah, me too. I guess I didn’t want to think…” His gaze deepened. “Sorry, Jen.”

  The air in the room thickened.

  Tom raised his chin. “So, where is the baby now?”

  “They took her to the hospital to be checked over.” I drew a squiggle in the freshly waxed wood. “From what I gather, she’ll be a ward of the state. No plans to find out who she belongs to.” I glanced up at the mirror. My turn to test his reaction.

  Tom’s face shadowed. “I see. I thought perhaps you’d…well I wasn’t sure. But I understand. It had to be your decision to make.”

  I cast my eyes downward to blink back new tears. One, two, three… Steady, Jen. Keep calm. “So, you agreed to find me?”

  Tom’s heels shuffled towards me. “Yes. It took a while.”

  My nose flared to force air into my lungs. I fiddled with my keys. “Why bother at all?”

  He snorted a short laugh. “Why do you think, hon?”

  I spun on my foot to face him. “I haven’t the vaguest idea.” Of course, I did—so we could reconnect.

  His smirk widened. He surmised I lied. I’m sure it showed in my eyes. He coughed into his fist. After an eternity of a moment, he sighed and leaned against the jamb. “This isn’t how I pictured our reunion.”

  My fingers grabbed for the edge of the table behind me. “There wasn’t supposed to ever be one, Tom ...” As I said his name, my voice cracked.

  Vulnerability exposed, he rushed to take me into his arms. I leaned back and shook my head. “No. Go away. You’re not real. Not anymore.”

  Tom shoved his hands into his pockets. “So I gather you and that widower from your new church have moved past friends-sharing-dinner stage, correct?”

  My own Irish temper splashed my neck with heat and blasted to my tongue. “How dare you spy on me? You’re as conniving and…” I sputtered. “…and slick as Robert. Who still is my husband, by the way, no matter what WITSEC says.”

  “Ah. Is that your heart or your faith speaking, Jen?”

  Without thinking, I grabbed the vase from the table and hurled it at Tom’s head.

  He dodged the ceramic projectile.

  Crash.

  It splattered the floor in a thousand pieces. Tom Cat dashed down the hall to safety.

  A familiar half-smirk eased across Tom’s mouth. “Your reflexes have improved, my dear.”

  I narrowed my eyes.

  His expression became serious. “Seeing the baby has really put you on edge, hasn’t it? I’m sorry.”

  Tom had no idea how much or why, and I didn’t want him to either. I didn’t want anyone to learn my secret. The only one who had a clue sat in prison.

  Let him think it’s because Robert slept with an illegal girl he’d help traffic. He needn’t know the rest. I folded my arms and changed the subject. “You disobeyed orders. You weren’t supposed to find me.”

  In two moves he stood breath to breath with me. He clenched my arm. “I am not the only one who has, Jen. Which is the other reason why I’m here.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “You mean Robert’s goons followed you?”

  “Not me. You. They watched you walk home.” His eyes darted to the door for a moment. “Now they’ve figured out where you live.”

  My gaze darted to the floor. “Is this why you came here?”

  He stepped back a bit, but kept his grip. “Well, yeah. But, I also wanted to see you, Jen…”

  “It’s Sheila, now.”

  He bobbed his head from one side to the other. “Whatever...but I couldn’t talk to you at the library, not with that deputy hanging around.” He shrugged. “Cops and I don’t always get along.”

  “How’d you recognize...?”

  “Who he was? I watched him head in your direction with library books under his elbow.” The sides of his lips curled. “I figured he didn’t plan on going to the supermarket.”

  My brows scrunched together at his evasive answer. Never mind. I had lots more questions for him. “Yet you chose to drop her off where I worked?”

  Tom’s eyes rolled. “Yeah. But, I walked away, Jen.”

  “I told you, it’s Sheila.” Oh, how this man got under my nerves. I inhaled to lower my blood pressure. “You’re not making sense.”

  Tom tightened his hand under my elbow. “Look. Can we continue this away from any large windows and glass-paned storm doors?” He motioned at my front entry. “I don’t exactly want the world to notice I’m here.” His cheeks paled. “I gather you haven’t phoned me in.”

  “I decided to wait until I got home.”

  Tom nodded. “Good.”

  An uneasy silence fogged between us. He tilted his head toward the hallway. “Now?”

  “Fine. Kitchen’s this way.” I jerked my arm loose and turned down the narrow hall. I called back as his footsteps paced with mine. “Water?”

  “Anything stronger?”

  I stopped. “I haven’t changed that much. Telling you goodbye didn’t lead me to drink and destruction.” I twisted the wand to close the mini-blinds over the sink.

  “Funny. It almost did me.” A chair to the dinette set scraped across the linoleum.

  Count to ten, Jen. One, two, three... change the subject, again. “What do you mean you saw Jorge walking to the library?” I took two glasses from the cabinet and turned the faucet on.

  “Is that his name? I recognized him as one of the locals. Does he usually come to the library on his day off?”

  My Irish temper edged up into my jaw. “Yeah. I guess. So?”

  Tom curled the placemat edge, but smoothed it back. “When you headed to the library, him next, I decided the time was right. Maybe even a sign from above.” He cocked his head. “I mean what were the odds? You usually don’t work on Saturdays, right?”

  My eyes widened. “How did you know that?”

  He shrugged. “Anyway, I figured you’d find the baby, or he would. Either way, she’d be safe.”

  I slammed the water glass down in front of him, leaned in and threw several daggers into his deep blue eyes―the ones I almost drowned in another identity ago. “You had my business card.”

  His eyes twinkled. “Not too hard to snatch.”

  “Exactly how long have you been watching me?”

  He pushed his shoulders into the backrest and took a deep swallow. After he set the tumbler down, he ran a finger around
the rim. “Is it important?”

  I wanted to slap the smirk from his face. I wanted to plant kisses all over it. I wanted to smash the water glass and shove its broken shards into his chiseled cheekbones. Instead, I slumped into the chair across from him. My emotions with this man had never been crystal clear.

  Tom leaned forward.

  I remained pokerfaced. To show fear would crumble any ounce of sensibility I clung to at the moment. Besides, Tom must have a plan. He always did. I dropped my head and picked at my fingernail. “So, what do we do now?”

  Instead of a response, I heard the chair scoot back, and the fridge door creak. “Why not fix something to eat? I’m starved.”

  Excuse me? How could he be so casual? Once again my frustration bubbled. “Then go to a restaurant. There’s a café two blocks west, but you’ve probably staked it out already, right?”

  The fridge door closed. His shoes clicked in my direction. “Nah, not a good time. Saturday’s special is meatloaf. Pretty lousy, I hear.”

  A curse word hung on my tonsils. I gulped it down. “I get it. You’ve been spying on me. Don’t be so glib about it.”

  “I’m trying to protect you, Jen. Kinda become a habit, you know.”

  I stomped my foot. Don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you still care. Not yet. Be cool. Remember the last time how much it hurt to say goodbye.

  Under the table, fur rubbed against my calves. Tom Cat. I picked him up, nuzzled my face into his fur and whispered to him, “I’m sorry I scared you. You’re my sweetheart, aren’t you?”

  “You talkin’ to me?” Tom’s leer widened.

  I laid the cat in my lap. “No, to Tom Cat.”

  The man cocked his head in the manner I always found irresistible. “You missed me that much? You named the cat after me?”

  “No, I call him Tom Cat because”—I rolled my eyes in a mimic of his a few moments prior—“he’s a male cat. Ergo, he’s a tom, Sherlock.”

  “Uh-huh.” Tom snickered, and got up. He came around to scratch the cat on its head as he planted a smack on the top of mine.

  My scalp tingled from his lips. I willed every ounce of me to not react. If I gazed at him right now, I’d liquefy into a puddle of weakness. Instead, I iced my emotions and placed the purring beast onto the linoleum.

  An elongated sigh whistled through his nose. “You’re upset with me being here? Okay, I’ll back off.”

  But he didn’t. He hovered over me. I waited. First one who talks loses. So they say. But what did it matter? I’d already lost my husband, my home, my life, and my identity. All except this cat making S turns through my legs under the table. He remained my one stability.

  Tom’s voice turned soft and husky. “Jen, please. Don’t break my heart.”

  My calm, cool exterior shattered to the floor. I banged my fist onto the table and shot to my feet. Tears burst down my cheeks. “Why did you have to come back into my life, you...you…” My knees wobbled.

  Strong arms scooped me up and drew me to him. I buried my head into the crux of his shoulder. His heartbeat pounded in my ear. One hand stroked my hair, the other the small of my back. As we gently swayed to our love’s own tune, I prayed he’d never let me go again.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Long time no see, friend.”

  I peered around Tom to Becky, my old neighbor and WITSEC asset. “You knew he’d found me?”

  She shrugged. “I’ve just spoken with your marshal and read her in. We’ll need to relocate you now.” She dropped a key to my front door, no doubt the one the Bureau had given her, onto the table.

  “Again? I was just getting settled...” My gaze met Tom’s. His eyes clouded before he cast them to the floor. I slunk back into the chair. Bile in my throat prevented the rest of my sentence from forming. In the distance, a rumble of residual thunder sounded, well past Bonita Springs. The storm had been brief, but swift―just like Tom’s and my relationship. Perhaps some things were not meant to be.

  Becky eased into the chair where Tom had sat. He leaned against the wall, knocking the calendar off center. He shot me a half-grin. “Still flowers of the month, I see.”

  Our gaze locked again. I sensed in a split-second, we both flashed back to six months ago when he’d first flung rain droplets on the calendar in my office cubicle―the stormy day he kidnapped me and faked my death to protect me from the cartel. It seemed so long ago. I blinked to break his stare and turned to Becky. “It’s because the cartel’s followed Tom and the baby here, right?”

  She moved her shoulders into a hump. “Probably. Some of Robert’s gang were spotted in the area.”

  My attention zipped back to Tom. “Now see what you’ve done.”

  He kicked a seam in the linoleum. “I had to, Jen, for my own sake. I promised Robert I’d place his baby in safe hands, remember? He had long arms, even from the Pen.”

  I huffed. “Yeah, like an octopus, the conniving…” I swallowed back the words I really wanted to call him and ran my hand through my hair.

  Becky cleared her throat. “Tom asked me to help.”

  My eyes narrowed onto Becky. “What?”

  Her cheeks flushed. “I told him your location.” She blinked rapidly as her fingers reached for my shoulder. “I’m sorry, dear.”

  I shrugged away. “You two planned this?” My eye lids stretched as they darted between these two people I’d once trusted.

  Becky pressed her lips into a line. It made her middle-aged wrinkles deepen.

  Tom leaned on the table, elbows stiff. “I found Marisol and got her into a safe house. She chose to have the baby there. Afraid of the questions they’d ask at a hospital.”

  “You were there when…?”

  The movement of his Adam’s apple matched his nod. “They called me as soon as she went into labor.” His gaze shifted to the FBI agent. “So I texted Becky.”

  Becky shrugged. “I used to be a nurse’s aide.”

  A nervous laugh spewed from Tom’s throat. “I figured she’d help me take care of it until we got to you. I don’t know the first thing about babies.”

  Join the club. What made him think I would? Because I’m a woman?

  Tom pointed with his head to the kitchen window. “I can’t rely on too many people out there, other than you. Becky, however, I trust.”

  Her smile faded as her gaze turned from us both. I wondered why. Maybe she felt embarrassed.

  She waved his comment away with her hand. “Anyway, once Marisol delivered, she gave me the baby. She didn’t even want to see it.”

  My head wobbled like an out-of-balance spin-top. “Then why bring her here?”

  Tom crouched onto his heels and pressed a grip onto my shoulder. “It’s what Robert wanted. He promised I’d be free of him.”

  “And you believed him?” I clamped my eyelids and massaged the stabbing pain in my temples. “Oh, Tom. For God’s sake, why?”

  “I saw truth in his eyes, Jen.” His touch slid to my mid-back in a soft rub. “I’m sorry. I thought maybe you’d keep her. He told me how much you wanted a child.”

  My eyes shot open. “He said that?” Did Robert tell him we once had a child? One that I didn’t carry to term? A chilled tremor rippled through me. Robert bent people’s will like licorice sticks, and stabbed them with his twisted stiletto of irony.

  Becky replied in a soft voice, “Sure, it was risky, but it seemed the right thing to do. The child needed someone to love and care for her. And in a way, well, you are the next of kin.”

  As I stared into her face, tears swam. “You’ve both betrayed me. You’ve given away my location.”

  She said, “But you could have relocated with the baby. We’d provided you a new cover…”

  I dropped my head into my hands. “Both of you. Leave.”

  Silence.

  I raised my face as teardrops slid to my cheeks. “I mean it. Go. Now.”

  Tom’s gaze shot in the direction of the matronly FBI asset.

  With every ounce
of fortitude dangling in my soul, I steadied my tone. “Please. I need to be alone for a minute.”

  Tom’s voice shook. “Okay, Jen.” He squeezed my arm.

  “Sure, dear.” Becky’s face became distorted as shimmery ripples danced in my vision, skewing everything out of shape. “But, I can’t leave the house, now.” She cupped my chin. “You know that. Orders.”

  I nodded rapidly. “I do.”

  I closed my eyes in an attempt to stop the merry-go-round sensation. The sound of two pairs of feet scuffled out.

  Robert, the baby, Tom, having to move— being assigned yet another name. One more set of lies to learn. How could I go through that again? The thoughts swirled around in my mind. Faster. Faster. Stop. I want a normal life. Dear God, why can’t I have it?

  A wail, which began in my gut, exploded from my throat. My soul cried a heartfelt prayer. Yes, I chose the wrong man to marry. Yes, I made a mistake. Yes, I loved him more than You. I abandoned my beliefs for a while. But, dear God, must I still keep paying for my sins? I need Your strength. How else can I get through this?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  A few minutes later, I slunk into the living room, eyes swollen and tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. Becky held her cell phone to her ear. She paced as she responded in monosyllables. Tom crouched on the floor as he rubbed Tom Cat’s fur in various directions. The feline writhed in joy.

  Oh, how I’d wanted to react to his touch the same way when we hid together at his duplex. But it wouldn’t have been right. Even though the world thought me a widow, we’d both known that wasn’t the case. It was just another strand in Robert’s web of lies. So, Tom decided not to tempt me into breaking my vows, which made me love him even more.

  I scanned the curtain-drawn room, which I’d enjoyed decorating. To give it personality gave my new identity one as well. Of course everything had been newly purchased, but, by shopping flea markets and garage sales, I’d found some things which appeared to be family heirlooms. A round table with lion paw legs, a lamp with a bronzed patina, candlesticks to match, a painting of the ocean shore with slight water marks on the matting―it all gave the room hominess. Would I be allowed to take any of this with me? What “story of my life” would be droned into my skull until it sounded like the truth? How many more times over the next few years would this happen? Did WITSEC even have stats on that?